


Self-Fulfilling

by idrilhadhafang



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anidala Parallels, Ben Solo is Not Nice, Ben Solo is a Mess, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Devoted Ben Solo, Devoted Kylo Ren, I mean Palpatine’s behind it all what do you expect, Implied Sexual Content, Kylo Ren Backstory, Kylo Ren is a Mess, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Poe Dameron Has PTSD, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Protective Ben Solo, Protective Kylo Ren, Self-Fulfilling Prophecy, Tragedy, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, With A Side Of Everything Else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23832313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: What drove Ben Solo’s fall to the Dark Side?
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Ben Solo, Poe Dameron/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Poe Dameron/Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen





	Self-Fulfilling

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Deal With The Devil
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author’s Notes: Someone in the old Darkpilot Discord (for the Knightpilot Exchange) brought up this idea of Ben already having turned to the Dark Side when Luke considered killing him. Call this my take on that theory.

Ben sensed Poe’s X-wing touching down near the Academy before he ran out and saw Poe for himself. The way that Poe looked in that moment, stumbling out of his X-wing and looking like he’d seen a ghost...Ben ran to him, all but crushing him in his embrace and sheltering him, temporarily, from the world around him.   
  
“You’re here,” Ben murmured to him. “Dear Force.”  
  
“Of course I am, Ben,” Poe said. “I was waiting for you. Looking for you.”  
  
Ben drew away. Kissed Poe’s forehead, just because he could, and Poe seemed to grin brilliantly. Ben loved it, loved him.   
  
“My hut,” he murmured. “We can talk.”  
  
***  
  
They did. And after hearing about what Poe had seen, Ben knew there had to be something he could do.   
  
Their lovemaking could vary depending on circumstance. After Poe told him of one of the missions that he had gone on, seeing the ruins of cities, Ben (at Poe’s permission) took him to bed then. Kissed him, every inch of his body, murmuring that he wasn’t a killer for doing what he was doing against the Knights and others, when they devastated cities and left ruin in their wake. That he was Ben’s everything, and Poe murmured that he loved him too, more than anything.   
  
It didn’t matter who came first, or the longest. Ben just knew he’d do anything to see Poe happy.   
  
***  
  
It was afterwards, even as Poe lay dozing in his arms, breathing steadily, that Ben already found it difficult to sleep well. Just lying awake, with Poe’s head resting on his chest, and thinking of how Poe should be like that as a default state. Should be like that, always. Maybe it was selfish, he thought, tracing little calligraphy-like letters on Poe’s skin to try and calm himself, but he couldn’t stand the idea of Poe being in pain. He couldn’t stand the idea of what he saw in Poe’s mind — even though he knew he shouldn’t — during Poe’s nightmares. Bodies thrown every which way. Blood. There was more, and Ben knew it too.   
  
Poe shouldn’t be like that, Ben thought. He deserved _better._ He didn’t deserve to strain himself again and again just because he felt some need to redeem himself for what he did at sixteen to twenty-one. A _child._ Poe said he should have known better, but really, Poe didn’t deserve to be punishing himself, again and again.   
  
Poe deserved _better._  
  
He found that he was tracing calligraphy letters on Poe’s skin, again and again, letters that had no cohesive sentence, nothing but things like writing out Poe’s name — such a simple name, for a man that he would damn the galaxy itself for — the name of Poe’s homeplanet (Yavin), things of that nature. And three words. Three words that seemed almost desperate, like he was actively struggling against the forces that would yank this beautiful, talented man from his embrace.   
  
_I love you. I love you. I love you._  
  
“Mmmmm...Ben.” Poe murmured those words softly against Ben’s chest. “Something wrong?”  
  
“I just want you to be happy,” Ben said.   
  
"You can’t be responsible for my own happiness,” Poe said.   
  
“I want you safe." To think that he would give Poe everything. Trace his scars with his finger, showing Poe that they were something to be cherished.  
  
“I have to go out on missions, Ben. You don’t have to protect me all the time. It’s not your job.”  
  
Ben smoothed his hair. “Still. I’m scared for you. I’m afraid you’ll...shatter, and I won’t be able to fix you.”  
  
“You fix me as you are, Ben,” Poe said, and nuzzled under Ben’s neck.   
  
Ben smiled then. For now, the feeling of not being good enough to protect Poe from himself...it passed. For the moment.   
  
***  
  
Working in the archive had its advantages. During times when Luke was out, Ben could pore over texts that posed the answer to his nightmares. The visions he had of a man dressed in what Ben could only describe as “discount Darth Revan” armor, and Poe on a rack, uttering the most horrible scream that Ben could possibly hear...  
  
What if Poe said they were only dreams? Or worse, hated him for them? Ben doubted he could live with himself if Poe hated him. If. What a horrible word.   
  
He read through the text on “visions”. Read through it, through the text that described when visions happened, what they entailed. And he sighed. Not only did he have a rare (ish) talent, but Poe was also likely doomed. Doomed to be tortured by that...thing.   
  
_You think that he’s a monster, young Solo?_ the Voice said.  
  
“What else am I supposed to call him?” Ben said.   
  
_Savior, conqueror, hero, liberator._  
  
“No one who commits torture can be that.”  
  
 _Yet you would not have to be that. Should you take on his mantle._  
  
“I can’t torture...” How did he describe Poe? “Soulmate” seemed appropriate, if overdramatic.   
  
_You could supplant him. Become his opposite._  
  
The idea was absurd. Unthinkable. And yet...maybe that would be a way to fight back? His mother had given up being a Jedi, just because of some vision of the future she refused to talk about. Ben would be damned if he just gave up.   
  
_You’re nothing like your mother. You’re stronger than her — in all ways._  
  
Ben could at least take solace in that.   
  
***  
  
He sketched out things. He couldn’t help but be fascinated with the design of the armor — the almost birdlike nature of the helmet. Faceless, nameless. It was fitting. As Poe’s protector, the galaxy’s protector, he was more of a symbol than a man. No one would take Ben seriously. They’d take the Protector of the Galaxy, its savior, Poe’s protector, seriously.   
  
Ben knew that. He kept his sketches secret from Poe. He’d tell Poe the truth when he had the time. When the time was right. He wasn’t about to drive his pilot away.   
  
He wanted to tell Poe the truth, in as many chunks as he could take.   
  
***  
  
Things went the way that Rey would learn about them later (save for a few things). The attempted murder. The destruction of Luke’s Temple. Running into Tai, Voe and Hennix. (Ben hadn’t wanted the Temple to burn down. He had argued with the Voice about that, time and time again, while the Voice tried to justify it as “part of what was needed to make you complete”. And something had destroyed the Temple anyway. Ben wondered if his passivity made him good as a murderer)  
  
And Ren’s death. Voe’s.  
  
Albrekh usually constructed the Knights’ armor. (Snoke had expressed his disdain for it. “A true warrior would be unafraid to show his face,” he said. “None of trying to be Vader again.”)  
  
But Kylo was all but ready to construct his own. His own mask. His hands were so used to calligraphy and art; forging armor was another matter entirely. But he knew what to make. What to form. The armor that would protect the galaxy — protect Poe.   
  
He knew the design too well. The birdlike structure of the mask. The structure of his lightsaber — almost cross-like.   
  
And Kylo knew, just knew, as he finished the armor, looked upon it like an artist admiring their masterpiece, that for all the terrible things he’d done and let happen...he would not only protect Poe, but reshape the galaxy for him. Just him.   
  
He’d burn down the galaxy and rebuild it from scratch to keep Poe safe.


End file.
